


Luck is a matter of opinion

by ConsultingStag



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal kink meme, M/M, Sleepwalking, Will should really use a sleeping bag in the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:13:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsultingStag/pseuds/ConsultingStag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will sleepwalkes again, waking up when he gets hurt and calls Hannibal from a nearby phone booth. The doctor tends to his injuries, but it's just too tempting to taste his blood and Will doesn't seem to mind.<br/>“Tell me to stop and I will” his breath felt hot against his skin. Brown eyes looked at him like he wanted to devour him alive, the blood on his lips doing little to remove the picture from Will’s mind.</p><p>For <a href="http://hannibalkink.dreamwidth.org/1847.html?thread=1935671&posted=1#cmt2157111">this prompt</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Luck is a matter of opinion

The street lamps threw a sickly light on the dirty pavement, ousting the dim light of the decrescent moon.

The stag echoed his silent, barefoot steps, close behind him like a shadow. The distance between them attenuating with every step he made. Slowly, he turned around to look at it, all the while not ceasing his sluggish walk.

Will jolted awake, a sharp pain roaring up his foot, making him groan. Looking at the ground he saw the culprit. Splinters of a broken bottle.

Feeling disoriented, he looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was in the city by the looks of it. Will rubbed his hands over his face, trying to calm his rising panic. The sleepwalking had gotten worse. To get here he had to have walked for hours, though he didn’t know where exactly here was. At least he was on the sidewalk and not in the middle of the road.

A low wail behind him caught his attention and he turned around, carefully as not to put any pressure on his terribly aching foot.

“Winston.” His throat felt dry and raw as if he’d swallowed sandpaper. He’d gladly step into more shreds for a glass of water. Winston wagged his tail and came closer, licking his hand. Will felt himself smiling despite the pain in his foot, a warm feeling settling in his stomach at the dog’s display of affection.

He shivered against the chilly night air, realizing how cold it was not that he was awake and he looked down his insufficiently covered body. He had no cell phone with him and walking back home with this injury was out of the question.

There seemed to be no pub or Club nearby where he could ask to make a phone call and all windows around him were black holes in the walls. Spending the rest of the night out in the cold and waiting for the sun to rise wasn’t such an appealing possibility. In the future it would probably be best to use a sleeping bag, even if it reminded him of a straight jacket, but still better than getting himself killed in his sleep.

Will sighed tiredly, at a loss what to do in his current situation. Not enough that he was slowly but certainly losing his mind as well as control over his body. Will pushed the fear that threatened to crawl out of its layer back in with moderate success and scanned his surroundings once more.

At the street corner stood something which looked like a phone booth and he hoped that it wasn’t a hallucination, he had enough of those already. Maybe for once he’d have a bit luck and find some change in there to call someone.

Limping heavily, Will made his way towards it, only putting weight on his toes of his right foot and the panic returned for a few seconds as the booth didn’t seem to come any closer and he felt like a dying man amidst a desert crawling towards a mirage already imagining the salvation at the tip of his tongue. But the pain burning in his foot and Winston’s fur beneath his trembling fingers reminded him that it was real. Will looked back at the blood stain he’d left on the ground where he’d stood to confirm that he’d indeed moved forward.

He grimaced and swore under his breath when he tripped over a lose paver, but he was almost there. Goosebumps had risen all over his body, breaking lose in violent chills, the arm he’d slung around his body helping little to keep some of his warmth.

Eventually Will reached the phone booth, but he had no luck. There wasn’t a single coin lying around and he sat down on the cold floor gingerly, snuggling up against Winston, drinking in the warmth of his fur.

Perhaps an hour has past or only a few minutes, the throbbing ache in his foot making the time blurry, when a passenger turned around the corner. Will stood up, stifling a groan.

“E-excuse me!” his voice sounded a bit hoarse and he had to clear his throat. “Do you have perhaps a bit change? I locked myself out when I went out with my dog and stepped into some shreds.” He felt bad for lying to the man, but it sounded more plausible than saying he sleepwalked here from Wolf’s Trap.

The man wore a dark suit, a brief case clutched tightly in one hand and sniffing far too often, eying him nervously. Obviously he had just bought cocaine, but Will couldn’t care less at the moment.

“Sure. Sure.” He fumbled for his wallet, holding his briefcase even tighter than before. “Here you go. You must be freezing.” He pressed a few coins into Will’s outstretched palm and he managed to thank him before the man hurried away with his purchase.

There was only one person Will could think about calling. Jack was out of the question, Doctor Bloom didn’t know yet about his sleepwalking and he had no intention of telling her. Will only hesitated a second before dialing Hannibal’s number. He didn’t want to wake the doctor, but he didn’t have any friends he could call at this time of night. He couldn’t know that Hannibal was still awake and had just finished storing a kidney and lung of a rude electrician he had encountered a few years ago.

After the fifth ring, Will had almost given up hope that Hannibal would answer, but just as he was about to accept the fact that he’d have to spend the rest of the night in a cold phone booth Hannibal answered the phone.

“Hello, Hannibal Lecter speaking.” Will almost sighed in relief. He’d never been gladder to hear his voice.

“Hello Dr. Lecter, here’s Will Graham.” He gulped, suddenly nervous that Hannibal would be annoyed to be called so late.

“What’s the matter Will? Is something wrong?” He didn’t sound irritated in the least, only concerned. Will cleared his throat again, running a hand through his hair.

“I-I sleepwalked again and I don’t really know where I am.”

“Where are you calling from?”

“A phone booth in- in-“Will squinted, trying to read the sign at the street corner and told Hannibal the name of the street.

“Are you alright?” Will almost laughed at that question.

“Beside some shreds of glass I have stuck in my foot, hallucinations and sleepwalking I’m perfectly fine.” He could hear a low chuckle at the other end of the line.

“I’ll come and get you, Will. Give me twenty minutes.” Hannibal hung up before Will had a chance to reply. The change clattered down and he placed it on top of the device for the next person who might need it.

By the time Hannibal’s car pulled up, Will’s lips had turned slightly bluish. The doctor stepped out and walked over, eyes roaming over Will’s shaking frame.

“My dear Will, you’re shivering!” he’d already shed his jacked by the time he reached him and now draped it over his shoulders.

“I had noticed.” Will replied dryly, managing a weak grin. A hand sneaked around his waist, making him flinch shortly before he let himself being lead to the car, Winston walking at his other side. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Hannibal eying his foot and then Winston before looking at his car.

“I’ll pay for the cleaning.” He offered, but Hannibal shook his head.

“It’s quite alright. You should spend your money on a finer aftershave rather than my car.” Hannibal sounded deadly serious and Will felt inclined to throw a quick glance at his face, which revealed an amused twitch at the corners of his lips.

“It really smells that bad, huh?”

“It should be banned from the market.”

After a bit of cautious fumbling, Will was seated comfortably on the passenger side, his right foot crossed over his left and holding one hand underneath it to keep the blood from dripping in Hannibal’s neatly cleaned car. Winston hopped on the back seat, obediently sitting at Will’s command. Hannibal joined him in the front and, noticing Will’s struggle to keep his car unstained, bending over towards him, Will’s breath caught in his throat before he registered that Hannibal merely retrieved a handkerchief from the glove compartment. Shortly inspecting his injury, Hannibal frowned slightly at the few pieces of glass that jut out before handing him the piece of cloth and turning the seat heater to full blast. He took it gratefully, holding it underneath his bleeding foot throughout their drive to Hannibal’s house.

Once they reached it, Hannibal helped him out of the car, placing his hand around his waist once more and this time Will did not flinch, though he couldn’t help but shiver at the contact.

“We forgot Winston.” Will pointed out when they reached the front door, missing the silent sighed that escaped Hannibal’s lips. The doctor went back, returning a moment later with Winston at his side.

“He can stay outside if you don’t want him in your house.”

“No, Will. As long as he sleeps on the floor I don’t mind. Beside how could I let him stay outside when he kept an eye on you while no one was around.” Will smiled gratefully. He would have felt bad for Winston if he had to sleep in the cold.

“Thank you, Doctor Lecter.”

“Please, my dear Will, call me Hannibal. I consider you my friend and it saddens me to be kept at a professional distance.”

To spare the carped in the entry way, Will ignored his body’s outcry for distance and personal space, putting his arm around Hannibal’s shoulder. The doctor turned his head to look at him, raising an eyebrow curiously.

“Your carpet. I just thought…” Will trailed off, keeping his eyes trained on the ground. He could feel the heat of Hannibal’s skin radiating through his clothes, to say that this was distracting was an understatement. Will couldn’t remember the last time he had felt another person’s body heat.

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness.” Hannibal lead him to a spacious bathroom and Will sighed tiredly when a set down on the lid of the toilet, feeling somehow disappointed when Hannibal’s warmth withdrew from him.

“I’ll get you some painkillers and then I’ll take the liberty to remove the glass from your foot, if that’s alright with you.” Will nodded, painkillers sounded like a good idea and if Hannibal was going to remove them, which would inevitably require more body contact, Will could use the numbing feeling. It didn't’ take long for Hannibal to return with a glass of water and the promised pills and Will swallowed them hastily, a nervous lump forming in his throat. If the imminently removal of the glass or the thought of Hannibal’s hands on his skin were the cause for this, Will wasn’t sure.

Chances were good it was the latter, but Will had become good at ignoring the truth until it punched him in the face.

 

“Do you want to talk?” Hannibal inquired, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and then filling a plastic bowl with water to clean Will’s foot without making a mess in the bathroom.

 

“Not really. I don’t know what to tell you, you don’t know already anyway.” The doctor had successfully infiltrated his mind, ended up as the person Will went to when anything happened in his life, not keeping it all to himself like he had done before. With his calmness and elegance he emanated like some people gave off pheromones and the smiles he bestowed Will, telling him that he cared and didn’t judge him for being different, Hannibal had become something like an anchor he could rely on in his life. There had yet to come the time where Hannibal would turn him down on his doorstep and Will dreaded that day more than he cared to admit.

 

“You were lucky they haven’t ingressed any deeper.” Hannibal knelt down in front of him cupping his ankle and lowering his foot into the lukewarm water and his breath hitched at the contact (you can choose at which). Will snorted ungracefully, eyes roaming over expensive looking bath tiles.

 

“I wouldn’t consider it luck.”

 

“What would you consider it then?”

 

“If anything it would be bad luck.” When Hannibal seemed satisfied with the state cleanness, he got up to get a pair of tweezers and a small metal bin.

 

“Luck nonetheless.” Hannibal removed the first piece of glass, making Will hiss. The painkillers had eased the pain, but they hadn’t been strong once.

“I like to think that luck is a matter of opinion.” Hannibal went on, continuing the removal of the objects in Will’s foot with surgical efficiency. “Who knows where you’d ended up if the injury hadn’t put a halt to your sleepwalking.” Will stayed silent. He had a pretty good guess where his body had been heading to, but because it had been so dark he hadn’t recognized the streets immediately, but during their ride it had become unmistakably clear that it was the way Will took when going to Hannibal. It appeared as if the other could read his thoughts or maybe his face had given him away.

 

“What destination had your body in mind when it decided to take a nightly stroll?” Will concentrated on the still present pain. Though Hannibal had asked, he didn’t give in to the illusion that Hannibal hadn’t already figured it out for a second.

 

“Your house.” Will mumbled, feeling an unwelcome blush creep up his neck. “But surely you already knew that.”

 

“I had hoped for it, yes.” Will’s head snapped up and he made the mistake of looking Hannibal in the eye, his pupils were dilated, the black sucking in his gaze like a flytrap its prey.

 

 “Hoped?” he echoed curiously, unable to tear his eyes away.

“Yes. The body is often more honest than the mind it harbors.” His thin lips stretched into a pleased smile and he returned his attention to the task at hand, working in silence for a while.

“That is the last one” Hannibal stated, pulling out an especially deep one, Will winced and watched as the doctor let it join the others in the bin.

“Thanks, Hannibal.” Will expected Hannibal to disinfect the injuries. He certainly didn’t inspect Hannibal to bend his head down deliberately slow to give Will time to retreat, but he could only watch paralyzed as Hannibal’s mouth connected with his bleeding foot, sucking slightly at the wounds, his tongue sliding over the cuts. He drew in a shaky breath, the tingling sensation too much for his touch starved senses.

“H-Hannibal.” he managed to say, though it sounded more like a groan.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” His breath felt hot against his skin. Brown eyes looked at him like he wanted to devour him alive, the blood on his lips doing little to remove the picture from Will’s mind.

 “Don’t.” His heart hammered against his ribcage as if it wanted to break out.

“You need to be more precise, my dear Will.”

“Don’t stop.”

“As you wish.” And then Hannibal’s mouth was attached to his foot again, a skilled tongue tracing the cuts one after another, teeth grazing over them, making Will squirm underneath Hannibal’s grip on his ankle. Leaning forward, Will tugged at Hannibal’s neatly made hair, urging him to move up and Hannibal complied.

Their mouths collided, the kiss tasting metallic from Will’s blood and it shouldn’t be arousing, but still, Will found himself moaning into Hannibal’s mouth. A hand curled around the back of his neck, another sneaking up his leg. Will nipped at Hannibal’s lower lip, earning a low groan. Their breaths mingled when he pulled away for air and Will fumbled at the buttons of Hannibal’s shirt. His fingers twitched with the urge to just rip it open and let his hands roam over the chest beneath, but he could practically see the disapproving look on Hannibal’s face at the thought alone.

Eventually he managed to discard of it, his own following close behind. Nails scraped over skin, leaving a trail of angry red marks along their way. The bulge in Hannibal’s trousers was clearly visible and Will could feel his erection straining against the fabric of his underwear. After another kiss that left his head spinning and him gasping for breath, Hannibal slipped out of his trousers, removing his boxers along with them.

Suddenly Will felt vulnerably exposed, though he wasn’t the one standing there naked. Nervously he slipped his fingers past his waistband and a firm hand covered his own, squeezing reassuringly.

“No need to be nervous, Will.” His underwear was pulled down, leaving him naked, lust filled eyes roaming over him. Hannibal straddled his waist, their erections touching, making them both moan in pleasure. Hannibal’s hand tightened around them, setting a slow rhythm. Thumb circling his slit, using the precum as a lubricant. Will placed his hand over Hannibal’s, mimicking its pace, desperately clutching the other’s back with the other while Hannibal sucked dark bruises along his neck.

“I hope you leave them where the collar of my shirt can still cover them.” Will said between pants and groans, evoking a deep chuckle from Hannibal. His forehead rested on Hannibal’s shoulder and he could feel the vibrations of it, heat coiling much too soon at the pit of his stomach.

“I’m nothing if not efficient.” Teeth sank into where neck meets shoulder and Will was turn between pain and pleasure as he came, biting his lip to refrain from moaning Hannibal’s name. A few more pumps and Hannibal came as well, nails digging into his back.

 “I think I need to re-evaluate my perception of luck.” Will muttered between heavy pants and he could feel Hannibal smile against his skin.

“You can, but first we need to disinfect and bandage those cuts.”

**Author's Note:**

> Phew, somehow this little oneshot gor a little out of control and developed into a 3k long monster. Hope you enjoyed it =)  
> you're welcome to complain about any grammar mistakes you find or throw stones at me


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